


One Night

by thejeeperswife



Series: Cullen Rutherford Appreciation Week 2019 [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alienages (Dragon Age), Don't copy to another site, Drunk Night, Friendship, Gen, Kirkwall, Kirkwall Bay, Mages, Post-Dragon Age II, Templars, Wicked Grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejeeperswife/pseuds/thejeeperswife
Summary: Knight-Captain Rylen Mackenzie pries Cullen from his Kirkwall desk for a night of drinking and cards.Entry for Cullen Rutherford Appreciation Week 2019





	One Night

“Come on, Mate,” Rylen encouraged with his thick Starkhaven accent. “If you sit behind that blasted desk any longer, we all might mistake you for your old bat!”

A nerve in the new declared knight-commander’s cheek jumped a few times. Cullen did not move his head, only his red-shot whiskey eyes through his long curly hair. “I hope since you arrived, Knight-Captain, that I have demonstrated I am different from my former commander.” His baritone voice sounded raspy after spending a full day yelling at his remaining templars removing rumble from Kirkwall’s docks. Alas, Cullen knew this assisting Starkhaven templar never met Meredith.

Cullen can never differentiate himself from that red lyrium tyrant by remaining in Kirkwall. He will always be known as Meredith’s rabid mabari, willing to make mages tranquil and killing suspected blood mages in a heartbeat. Hawke reminded him every meeting he caused this mess and the looming mage rebellion as much as that healer abomination. 

“While you have been protecting these nobles and paupers from the escalating conflicts, the other knights still just see a man slumped over a desk and not showing he is actually _human_.” Rylen admitted with arms crossed over his breast plate.

So, Rylen knew and still observed that same all-duty knight-captain that willingly served Meredith’s every need. While Cullen wished this Starkhaven man had somewhat sugar-coated the obvious, he appreciated the bluntness. Hawke told him daily his failures and her hatred towards him, but Rylen told it as it is and gave him options to actually change.

“So, what exactly are you plan to do this evening?” The knight-commander questioned with skepticism.

Rylen smirked wickedly. “Well, we finally got paid. Drinks at the Hanged Man, possibly play some cards…let the night decide as we go. You know, _nothing planned to the T_…” His perked brow stated Cullen acted too square.

“And who would command?”

“Hugh and Masters.” Rylen replied with that wicked smirk across his tattooed face. “They had their fun yesterday. _You_ are the only officer who hasn’t stopped in the last six months!”

Once again, the Starkhaven, son of a stonemason, told it as it is. Cullen refused to stop. If he stopped doing everything possible to assist this ruined city, he feared he will become complacent again. He did not want to this chaos to be the status quo.

Cullen sighed and pinched his nose. “There is too much to do-“

“-and this hellscape will still be here in the morning!” Rylen hollered with a scowl. “If keep up with this unrealistic pace, we’ll find you dead across this bloody desk from a heart attack or stroke! Come on. Just _one _night?”

The knight-commander exhaled and pushed his wooden chair away from his littered desk. “Just this evening. I can’t stay out too late. I’m meeting Hawke and some Chantry officials evaluating what happened in the morning. I’m _definitely_ not drinking though…”

But oh did Cullen Stanton Rutherford drink. 

When he woke up that next late afternoon, Cullen’s head feet like a Qunari threw him into a mountain a few dozen times. His templar armor was missing. Only his now-tattered Chantry skirts kept his modesty. The knight’s coin purse was not on his hip. Most of all, everything smelled like Kirkwall Bay and piss, making Cullen’s stomach lurch every nasally breath. 

Rylen laid on floor of the knight-commander’s personal quarters with his Chantry kilt lifted over his head. The man’s pasty white naked rump actually bounced the streams of afternoon light right into Cullen’s bruised eyes like a mirror. Empty Starkhaven whiskey bottles littered the floor. Was that a branch from the alienage’s vhenadahl in his hand?! And Isabela’s handwriting that said ‘I will claim this ass _soon!’_ across his buttocks?!

That explained the missing coin purses…

Still laying there so hungover,—or was Cullen _still_ drunk—the knight-commander felt mentally better than since before the Fifth Blight. Over the years, he purposefully did not make friends, too afraid he will lose them to abominations and blood mages again. However, glancing at the snoring tattooed Starkhaven knight lying beside his own puddle of vomit, Cullen knew he made a new buddy. He might not remember anything from that previous crazy night. However, this comradery became meaningful in his disgusting and damaged soul. Maybe another way he begin atoning for his behavior the last seven years was to actually allow people in and know more about the knight-commander than just in a professional setting.

Knight-Captain Rylen Mackenzie will be the first of hopefully more mates for life. The Starkhaven knight made friendship easy. Let’s pray more beginning friendships will be as fluid and relaxing.

Now, to find the nearest chamber pot and puke Cullen’s brains out.


End file.
